


Love is Watching Someone Die

by castielrisingabove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst, Apocalypse, Death, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Sickness, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the apocalypse, but one caused by angels, not demon sickness. One-shot of Cas and Dean trying to survive the remains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is Watching Someone Die

Ash and soot. It’s everywhere. In the air, the water, it’s become a part of everything he sees, smells, even tastes. Castiel hasn’t been so aware of taste since he was human. The air around them is quiet. Maybe even muffled. Gone are the hums of regular life; there’s no longer enough people to sustain the noises of modern society.

Dean coughs, breaking the confining silence. Cas stops walking, quietly pausing to make sure he’s doing well enough to keep going. Lately, Dean had only been getting worse.

Some said the apocalypse would come in flames. Others believed it would be a virus. Most agreed it was going to be the work of the devil. They couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

It had been angels, battling each other as though there would be no consequence. Cas had tried to stop them, but the battle for Heaven was already in motion; the many factions fighting desperately to be the one to rule their home. Ironically, they hadn’t made it to Heaven. They wiped each other out. And a lot of humans too.

What was leftover was devastating. Monsters roamed freely across the Earth and many of the surviving humans were no better. Cas and Dean were always on the defensive.

They’d had to abandon the Impala several months ago when she’d run out of gas for the last time. Dean had struggled not to cry, caressing the hood quietly. A final goodbye. Not just to the car, but to everyone she’d held. His parents. Garth. Kevin.

Sam.

Dean coughs again, pulling Cas back into reality. Cas can’t remember when the sickness set in, but in a matter of weeks, Dean has been steadily growing worse; he can’t travel as far anymore, and his nights are tormented with bloody coughing fits that send him awake at regular intervals. Dean’s not just sick, he’s dying, and there’s nothing Cas can do about it. 

The hacking continues, Dean bent over with his hands on his knees. Instinctively, Cas moves to grasp Dean’s shoulder. Dean shoves it off, shifting backwards out of reach so quickly his foot catches, sending him to the ground. He looks up at Cas, eyes intent.

"I told you, man," he says hoarsely, "None of that healing mojo." 

Cas sighs, his hands retreating to the pocket of his dirty trench coat. He steps in closer to Dean, oscillating between wanting to help him up, and fearing Dean’s possible annoyance if he tries.

Seeing the hurt expression in Cas’s eyes, Dean pushes himself to his feet, moving in closer and trying to reestablish the camaraderie. He sets his hand softly on Castiel’s shoulder. A silent apology.

"I hate to see you suffer," Cas says softly, relaxing somewhat to the pressure of Dean’s warmth. There’s a pause as Cas allows his gaze to linger upon Dean, memorizing the lines and curves of his face. "And I don’t want to be alone," he admits, looking away.

Dean looks away, too. “If you’d rather a bullet…”

"No."

It isn’t the first time they’ve had a conversation like this. Ever since they’d killed Gadreel, Dean hadn’t been the same. And why would he? Putting an angel blade in his brother’s gut had been a high price to pay to end the bloodshed. Even without the sickness, Dean Winchester would have carried death inside himself.

Cas swallows, the ash burning his dry throat. “Please, Dean. Just this once.”

Dean takes a shuddering breath, not looking at Cas. “Let’s just keep going,” he croaks, starting to walk. He drags his heavy feet down the path, ash swirling about his legs.

Cas watches Dean’s emaciated frame slog forwards, flannel shirt (which now appears several sizes too big) flapping in a breeze. It wouldn’t have mattered if food was running low, Dean hadn’t been eating much anyway. Yet another thing that worries Cas.

As Dean trudges forwards, Cas stays put. He refuses to move, waiting, instead, for Dean to stop and call for him.  Maybe they can address the issue. Maybe Cas can talk sense into him. 

Then, Dean staggers. Stumbles. Collapses. The world seems to slow for Cas as Dean falls, hitting the ground without a sound, not even a whimper. 

There is a rush of air and the sound of wings; Cas is there in a heartbeat, cradling Dean’s body in his arms. “Please,” he whispers, tears stinging his dry eyes as he tries with all his being to keep from healing Dean.

"What did..I tell you…about…personal space?" Dean wheezes, a lopsided grin on his face. It’s too much. A tortured laugh erupts from Cas’s chest as tears leak down his cheeks.

Dean’s grin fades as the teardrops splatter on his face. “Thank you,” he whispers, coughing weakly, “I didn’t want…to go…alone.”

"I’m here, Dean. I’m watching over you," Cas chokes, pressing Dean closer to his chest. The breaths are getting shorter. Cas grips Dean’s hand, holding it to his heart. The urge to heal him is so overwhelming it hurts. “Dean, I don’t know if I can follow through,” he whispers weakly.

Dean gives Cas’ hand a feeble squeeze in response. “Please, Cas,” he says, so softly it’s practically a whisper, “I need you to let me go. Remember what I said? If you love something...”

“...set it free,” Cas finishes, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on Dean’s forehead. They sit for a while without speaking, Dean’s rasping breaths the only sound to fill the aching silence. Without warning, Dean grips Cas’ hand tightly, inhaling a long rattling breath as his eyes shift away from Cas to something in the distance.

"Hey, Sammy…" Dean murmurs, his eyes lighting up for a second before closing. The breathing stops.

Cas sobs wildly, burying his face in Dean’s chest, gripping his tattered jacket like a lifeline. “Don’t leave me, Dean. You can’t leave me.” 

He’d spent the weeks prior preparing himself for this moment, but there is nothing he could have done to prepare himself for how much it hurts. He holds Dean until nightfall, clutching him until Dean’s body grows cold and Cas grows stiff. As the moonlight starts to shine in his eyes, Cas becomes aware of how late it has gotten. He buries his face in the nape of Dean’s neck, whispering a final goodbye as he prepares for what must happen next.  
The pyre lights up the foggy night sky.

“I set you free, Dean,” he whispers; Cas stays for only a moment after it catches fire, watching the smoke ascend to the starlight heavens before moving on. 

Like the Winchesters, this is the closest Cas ever comes on Earth to saying “I love you,” but that’s alright. He plans on saying that when he finds Dean in Heaven. Dean might have said “If you love something, set it free,” but he never told Cas what to do afterwards. Maybe love was about letting go, but it was also about picking up the pieces.


End file.
